


"House of Cards" - [Jeremy Irons/Tom Hiddleston - One shot].

by A_Wolf



Category: British Actor RPF, Jeremy Irons - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, hiddlestoners
Genre: A.Wölf, Multi, Tumblr: theartofimagining13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 14:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Wolf/pseuds/A_Wolf
Summary: Based on: Imagine: Bringing your boyfriend, Tom, home to meet your parents. After having dinner and as soon as you and your mom leave the room, your stepdad, Jeremy, wastes no time in threatening Tom and telling him that he’ll never allow him to marry you because he doesn’t deserve you and you’re only his. This upsets Tom because he finds Jeremy’s jealousy way too odd to be “parental”.





	"House of Cards" - [Jeremy Irons/Tom Hiddleston - One shot].

**Author's Note:**

> This is the darkest thing I’ve written so far. I’ve explored unknown territory this time so feel free to analyze it, the characters, and the weird vibes. We’re obviously dealing with hints of incest but not really (Read the imagine it is based on. Mentioned above). I believe i tackled this in an elegant fashion but it still is what it is… so if you’re not okay with this type of fiction, this isn’t for you. 
> 
> ***Let this be yet another reminder that this is 100% fiction and the actors mentioned are just portraying these original characters.

**Originally posted at** : [The Art of Imagining](http://theartofimagining13.tumblr.com/).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[{ Music }](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2m2JCSVLcfU)

* * *

The empty plates were piled up in the sink after our lovely and passive-aggressive family dinner.

Mother forced a smile for me as she snatched the rubber gloves from my hands.

 _“I can help”,_  I offered.

 _“Sweetheart…”_  she sighed shaking her head,  _“You can’t even help yourself”._

I clenched my jaw and tried my best to ignore her nasty little comment, and grabbed the towel determined to at least dry the plates after she washed them whether she liked it or not. I prayed for silence during the task and almost got my wish, but of course mother ruined everything when we were almost done.

 _“I’m so glad you’ve found someone”,_  she said,  _“but how long will this one stay?”_

I froze and met her eyes, begging her without a word, to stop right there.

 _“Silly me. Let me rephrase that”,_  She chuckled,  _“How long will your father let this one stay?”_

The way she said  _“your father”._ I knew where this was going. It’s as if we could never be alone in the same room she and i.

 _“He’s not my father”,_  I unwillingly said through gritted teeth and it still hurt.

She let out an amused giggle.

_“Of course. Father. Stepfather. Whatever helps you sleep at night”._

_“Why does everything always have to be a fight with you, mother?”_  I snapped.

I threw the towel on the counter and turned to leave.

 _“You’re still staying for dessert, right?”_  She dared ask as I walked away.

But the thing that enraged me the most was that she was right. And like a warning sign, the red door to my father’s studio seemed to augur the repetitive and the inevitable. I could hear everything from the other side. And knowing my dad like I did, I could almost guarantee that he was leaning against his desk, with crossed arms while staring at my boyfriend, Tom, with a wolfish grin and nothing but bad intentions.

“ _It’s a lovely home you have here, sir”,_  I could hear Tom say.

And I knew he was nervous. I couldn’t blame him. My father was an intimidating man.

_“And your wife is a lovely cook. Thanks for having me”._

_“Cut the crap”,_  my dad ordered,  _“Thomas, is it?”_

I heard no answer from Tom. He probably nodded or was too taken aback to reply.

_“I know what you’re thinking”._

_“Do you now, sir?”_

_“You’re not marrying my daughter”._

_“Pardon me, sir?”_

I could imagine Tom’s blue eyes widening in surprise.

_“Don’t even bother. Take that engagement ring back to the jewelry store because she… listen carefully…will never be yours. I will never allow it”._

There was a long pause. I even pressed my ear closer to the door in case their voices had dropped a few octaves but still, I heard nothing. I wondered if Tom truly had an engagement ring in his pocket, and if daddy was so good at this by now that he could actually smell them.

_“With all due respect, sir, you don’t-”_

_“Even know you?”_  Father cut him off.

_“Well, yes”._

_“You’re all the same”,_ he said, and i could hear him pacing around _, “You all come here with your nice suits, big words, fancy gifts and secondhand manners, thinking that you’re worthy, that you can just sweep my daughter off her feet and take her from me… from us”._

I was sure that had made Tom frown but he chuckled.

_“I’m here because I am in love with your daughter, and i-”_

Father interrupted him again and that was my cue to leave. I knew what was coming. I didn’t need to eavesdrop anymore. He would crush his spirit in the only way he knew, the cunning man.

There was a big reason why it took me so long to bring Thomas here.

* * *

A few minutes later, both of them came out of the room as mother laid some napkins next to each of the four tiramisu cups on the dining table. My father patted Tom twice and a bit too rough on the shoulder with a sardonic smile before walking away to take a seat.

Tom looked upset. Very very upset.

 _“Dessert?_   _It’s Italian… I took classes during my second honeymoon with Jeremy”._ Mother said wearing her biggest fake grin and looking at Father when she said his name.

This was her; a walking ad of the  _“perfect”_ wife with a  _“perfect”_  family, in a permanent state of denial, and  _“smile through the pain”_ was her motto _._  I’m sure she repeatedly told herself that during this eternal pretense. We all wear masks but she thinks she’s got everybody fooled.

Tom inhaled deeply and showed a nervous yet polite smile before speaking.

_“I’m afraid we can’t stay, ma’am”._

_“Please, I told you, call me Magda”._

_“Well, Magda, thank you very much but we’re leaving”._

Father was already putting his napkin on his lap, completely uninterested and cold. Not even glancing in our direction. Well, only at me, out of the corner of his eye because he knew that I knew what he had done and that he’d be in trouble later. Tom looked at me, grabbed my hand and almost dragged me out of there but I was still able to catch a glimpse and hear my parents talking when he got out to open the car and I stayed by the door.

 _“You had to ruin everything again, Jeremy John, didn’t you?”_  Mother sang, absentmindedly and without a care while digging her spoon into her tiramisu cup which was, at this point, tasteless I’m sure.

Bitter. Not sweet, I hoped.

Father must’ve glared at her, as usual. And had they been alone, I know he would’ve raised his hand at her. Oh, mother. Forgiving mother. Silly Mother. Conveniently blind and subjugated mother.

_Enamored mother._

She knew. She knew  _everything._

 _“Just eat your dessert, Magda”,_  was the last thing I heard my father say before I was out of there.

His tone was bitter and sarcastic, almost spewing venom into mother’s cup so she’d stop getting on his nerves once and for all.

Tom and i were gone, and had we banged the door shut, this house of cards would’ve fallen apart, on top of us all, uncovering our lies; it was already trembling anyway. It had been for a while.

* * *

Tom drove me home in utter and uncomfortable silence.

When we arrived, I didn’t know what to do or say, so I just opened the door but he stopped me. I stared at his fingers curling around my wrist, gripping it gently, and then met his worried blue eyes. He was deep in thought, choosing his words carefully and not letting me get out of the car, so I spoke first.

_“Tom, whatever he said to you is no different than what any other father on earth would say when it comes to his little girl. We’re always children in their eyes”._

_“I know… it’s just…”_ he trailed off and looked out his window _, “Something wasn’t entirely right about the way he-”_

 _“Stop”,_ I said with a chuckle, and he looked at me again,  _“He’s just a very strict man. Always has been. He’ll come around… with time”._

Tom hesitantly gave a nod.

 _“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”_ i said.

I went for a quick peck on the lips but he deepened the kiss and made it last longer, as if he were protecting me or persuading me with it. As I was about to get out of the car, his grip tightened around my wrist. And when I stared at him, his expression had changed. He had finally mustered the courage to say the words he had chosen from the beginning but that didn’t keep him from stammering.

_“Has he… has he ever touched you?”_

My lips parted and I inhaled through my mouth, my heart pounded and flickered like a damaged neon light before I looked him in the eye and, like my mother, tried to show a reassuring  _“Don’t be silly”_  smile which only ended up turning into a confusing grimace. Tom’s eyebrows denoted a yet unknown emotion, and I knew it was best not to stay in the vehicle another second, so I finally left and opened my front door.

* * *

And that door was knocked on a little after midnight, and I, used to it all since i was 18, opened it in nothing but my long white shirt and black underwear.

His eyes scanned me from head to toe as soon as I opened, of course.

 _“May I come in?”_  he asked.

We’re in a mess.

Without a word, I turned around and grabbed the bottle of scotch from the coffee table on my way to the living room and took a big swig before sinking in the couch, where I had been, waiting for him. He followed and sat next to me. I could see it in his face; he knew it wouldn’t be easy this time, that I wouldn’t be daddy’s little girl, and that I’d put up a fight. He hesitated at first but put his left hand on my bare knee, and for the first time in many years, I flinched but he didn’t move.

 _“You have to understand that this isn’t easy for me…”_  he began.

 _“For you?”_  I asked narrowing my eyes.

I was about to take another sip but he took the bottle away and set it down on the floor. The pain in my eyes reflected in his. The tough and serious man was slowly weakening before me. He was vulnerable; a sight to see once in a lifetime. The façade was falling off. All those years, all the lies, all the forbidden games had finally caught up with us.

Before I knew it, he put his right hand on my other knee and ran both up my thighs as he bent forward and encircled my waist in a tight grip to rest his head on my lap.

 _“I love you… I love you”_ , he sobbed repeatedly with a broken and guilty voice.

And what else was there for me to do but to run my fingers through my father’s salt and pepper hair, and lift his head to cup his face between my hands to look into his coffee stained eyes.

 _“Do you really love him?”_  he asked unafraid to show me the couple tears streaming down his face.

 _“I do”,_  I whispered.

Sheer fear took over in no time, causing him to widen his eyes and stare blankly into space as if his worst fears were materializing.

 _“You can’t…”_  became his litany.

_“We cannot keep going like this”._

But he gripped my chin in a rough manner before crashing his lips against mine ever so desperately, and his big hands cupped my face and caressed my hair.

 _“Please don’t. Not him”,_  he begged in whispers between lip brushes,  _“Don’t you love me anymore?”_

His hands traveled up and down my sides, grazed my breasts, then he rested his chin between them and looked up at me with pleading eyes while holding onto my shirt and even my soul for dear life.

The fine line between man and child was a blur.

 _“More than ever”,_  I confessed.

That seemed to calm him down. He slowly let go of me but kept on staring straight into my eyes and moved a strand of hair away from my face. He didn’t need to break the silence. I already knew his unspoken words; My mother, the betrayal, the sickness in our brains, the forbidden love, my new man… it was all too overwhelming but that didn’t dull the hopeful glint in his eyes.

It enlightened me and showed me that he’d be there on my wedding day after all, that he’d walk me down the aisle. Oh father would let me marry for a change; anything to keep up appearances but not without certain conditions.

When Thomas my new husband was lost in a deep slumber, perhaps induced by some pill the wife herself had slipped into his drink during dinner, after midnight, I’d belong in the arms of another man, one I could never let go of. The man who raised me, the man who polluted me, the man I loved.

The man pulling my shirt down my shoulder to plant passionate kisses on it and along my neck as he, once more, unbuckled his belt to seal this deal.


End file.
